Danielle Ramsay - Broken Silence

‘Directly behind the garden there’s a field that we’re renting for the horses,’ Kate added.

‘Yeah?’ he answered, ignoring the creeping worry about where the money was coming from for the upkeep of horses.

He’d forgotten Kate’s passion was horses. Always had been since he’d known her from the age of seventeen. Her mother lived in a sprawling country house outside of Morpeth and in the early seventies was a celebrated Olympic Show Jumper. She then married and had Kate, who had literally learned to ride before she could walk. Kate had been destined for greatness when it came to riding, even Badminton had been mooted. She was an all-rounder. Great at dressage, show-jumping and cross-country. That was until she met Brady.

She had been rebellious in her youth and had rejected her boarding school upbringing for the edgy, dangerous punks who frequented the carpet-sodden dive in Whitley Bay called Mingles on a Friday night. A regular occurrence was skinheads travelling down from Newcastle looking for trouble. They would force their way into the club, drunk and ready for a fight. It was during one of these bloodthirsty punch-ups that Brady had spotted Kate pinned against the wall looking on in horror as the wannabe punk next to her had a glass smashed into his face by a skinhead. Brady had grabbed her and managed to get her out before the same skinhead decided to rearrange her very privileged, pretty face.

As a rough-edged lad from the socially deprived Ridges, he wasn’t great boyfriend material. But it was worse than that. Brady had introduced her to Matthews for which her mother had never forgiven him. With that came the end of her mother’s dreams of her daughter competing at Badminton and ultimately, representing Britain in the Olympics.

Brady pulled out a cigarette from his packet and lit it. He had gone from trying to quit altogether to chain smoking. He decided to cut himself some slack; after all it had been one hell of a morning.

‘Thanks,’ Brady said as he gestured towards the makeshift ashtray.

His mouth felt dry. It didn’t feel right being sat here in Matthews’ kitchen.

‘So, tell me what have you got out in the field then?’ Brady asked, trying to make polite conversation.

She smiled at him. And as she did, he remembered what it was about her that had made him fall so deeply in love. In that smile shone her passion for life. She glowed with a zest that was contagious and addictive.

‘They’re thoroughbreds, both as crazy as one another. Melody’s a chestnut mare, stunning at dressage, and Tico’s a liver-chestnut gelding. He’s fantastic at cross-country,’ she enthused.

Brady watched as the glow on her face slowly faded.

Frowning, she reached over and took a cigarette from Brady’s open packet and lit it.

‘Thought you’d given up years ago?’ Brady asked.

‘I had,’ she replied.

‘Things that bad?’ Brady asked.

She followed his eyes to the lily-white band on her left hand where her wedding ring should have been.

‘Yeah, things are that bad.’

Brady’s eyes slowly took in every inch of her face. He had forgotten just how striking her sculpted cheekbones were, let alone her haunting eyes. Needless to say she was too good for Matthews, as Brady had drunkenly told him on more than a few occasions. She was still only in her mid-thirties even though she had been married to Matthews for sixteen years.

She broke into a delicate, nervous smile as she caught Brady’s eye.

‘What about you? First day back that bad?’

Brady shrugged and looked down at the cigarette between his fingers. This was hard for both of them. They were trying their best to avoid talking about that night. A lot had happened since then. And a lot had happened before then.

‘I heard about the shooting. I didn’t think you’d be back at work so soon.’

Brady shrugged again.

‘Jack?’

He dragged his eyes up to hers. Her elfish, short strawberry blonde hair fell in unruly waves across her forehead, partially covering her cheeks. She unconsciously tucked the stray locks behind her small ears as she held his gaze.

The last time he had seen Kate her hair had fallen in thick, tumultuous waves past her shoulders. In all the time he had known her he had never seen her with short hair. He resisted the temptation to reach out and gently move the stubborn lock that seductively fell again, partly obscuring her eye. Sitting so close to her hurt more than he wanted to admit.

But he wasn’t sure it was real. He wasn’t sure about anything any more. All he knew was that he had never felt so empty. Nothing he did seemed to fill the dark void in his life since Claudia had left.

He turned away and looked out at the garden. It was drizzling.

‘Where’s Jimmy, Jack?’

‘I was hoping I would find him here,’ Brady answered quietly.

When she didn’t answer he turned to look at her.

‘Kate?’

Her eyes were filled with tears.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

‘Don’t be,’ she replied as she swallowed back the tears.

Brady had forgotten how her eye colour could suddenly change from a misty greyish green to a burnished emerald shade. She was angry. Who with, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was with the both of them; since Matthews wasn’t the only one who had fucked with her head.

Brady held her gaze as she searched his eyes for confirmation that he had made the right decision. He couldn’t give her an answer. He couldn’t even give himself one.

He abruptly stood up and walked over to the open French doors. He kept his back to her as he slowly dragged on his cigarette.

‘What’s going on, Jack?’

He turned round.

‘Jimmy hasn’t told you?’ Brady asked, unable to disguise his surprise.

‘He hasn’t been here for the past two days …’ she bitterly stated.

‘Didn’t the Simmons call you?’

‘The phone went at some godforsaken hour this morning. I was half-asleep and so didn’t answer it, I didn’t realise who it was until this morning when I saw the caller ID. I just presumed it was Sophie being silly trying to ring Evie. Believe me, those girls have done it in the past! I’ve lost count of the times Sophie would ring this house at some ridiculous hour asking for Evie. I’ve even caught Evie whispering on the phone in her bedroom to Sophie past two in the morning. The times I’ve wanted to strangle the pair of them! But … how did you know?’ she faltered as she looked up at Brady’s dark expression.

‘Kate … Sophie was found murdered early this morning …’

She numbly shook her head at Brady as she tried to absorb what he had just told her. She didn’t ask any questions. She was a copper’s wife; she knew the score. Instead she slowly finished her cigarette then distractedly stubbed it out.

‘Who did it?’

‘We don’t know yet,’ Brady quietly replied. ‘Is it right that Sophie was here last night?’

Kate numbly nodded.

‘I take a yoga class on a Thursday night so I left the girls to it. That was just before six. When I got home after eleven, Sophie had already gone and Evie was in bed. Her lights were out so I presumed she was asleep.’

Brady resisted the urge to ask where Kate had been until eleven. He had no right, not any more.

‘I’m sorry, Kate, but I’ll have to take a statement from Evie.’

‘Sure,’ Kate mumbled as she bit her lip. ‘Jack? Where did you find her?’

‘Potter’s Farm, opposite West Monkseaton Metro station.’

Kate covered her mouth as she shook her head.

Brady threw what was left of his cigarette out into the large, secluded walled garden. He then stared blankly at the miserable grey cloud smothering the North East of England.

He heard Kate stand up. He didn’t need to look to know that she was now stood behind him. He could feel the closeness of her body.